My therapist once told me that healing is like finding a forgotten container of food in the back of the fridge. You hide it with new things, pretend it’s not there—but you still know it’s rotting. The only way to reclaim the space is to pull it out, open it up, dump it out, and scrub it clean.
When she first said this to me, I laughed—and then I cried. Because that metaphor hit a little too hard.
I knew exactly what she meant.
I’ve been that fridge. Overloaded with fresh distractions, new chapters, and hopeful resets—while something in the back quietly festered. Pain I tried to bury. Grief I tried to silence. Memories I didn’t want to touch.
I told myself it was fine.
I had moved on.
I had filled my life with new things.
But just like that Tupperware shoved in the back corner, I still knew it was there. And healing meant finally doing what I’d avoided: pulling it out, facing the mess, and cleaning it out—no matter how ugly or uncomfortable it felt in the moment.
That’s what therapy has been for me.
Not a cute aesthetic or a motivational meme.
But the real, raw process of looking at what’s been sitting too long in the dark. Opening up what hurt. Dumping out what no longer belongs. Scrubbing the layers of shame, trauma, and heartbreak until I could finally breathe again.
It hasn’t been easy. It hasn’t been fast. And it definitely hasn’t been pretty.
But I’m reclaiming my space.
Bit by bit. Shelf by shelf.
And I’m learning that healing doesn’t mean pretending the rot was never there.
It means doing the work to clear it—so you don’t have to carry it anymore.
I’m not finished yet.
I don’t gag anymore when I open the fridge. I don’t flinch.
But I’m cleaner. Lighter.
And every time I open the door now, I see a little more room for peace, purpose, and me.
⸻
Got a container of your own?
If this spoke to you… if you’ve got your own “forgotten container” that you’ve avoided for too long—just know: you don’t have to clean it all out in one day. Start where you are. The moment you choose healing, you’re already doing the bravest thing.
💬 Closing Affirmation
I’m not afraid to face what hurt me.
I clear out what no longer serves me.
I reclaim my life—one shelf at a time.